


It Ain't Chemistry, It's Witchcraft

by KatieComma



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas traditions, Established Relationship, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff with a pinch of smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:21:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21950629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieComma/pseuds/KatieComma
Summary: Mac wants to do something special for Jack for Christmas. So he calls Mama Dalton for ideas.
Relationships: Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 123





	It Ain't Chemistry, It's Witchcraft

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlackVultures](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackVultures/gifts).



> Sammy!!! Thank you for the amazing prompt... it went a LITTLE off track... but I think overall I kept to your prompt!
> 
> Thank you SOOO much to lavendersblues for letting me talk through some things on this one... and giving me some baking ideas.

Mac’s phone dings; his email notification. He casually reaches for it without looking, hoping not to betray any excitement to Jack, who he’s snuggled up with on the couch.

Mac’s been waiting for a reply Mama Dalton all day. And it has arrived! The famous Jack Senior Christmas cookie recipe. 

In true Dalton fashion, no one in their family did anything the way anyone expected them to. And while Mama Dalton is the queen of barbecue, Jack Senior had been the dessert champion of Frisco County. Apparently his pies had garnered more than a few blue ribbons.

Mac’s been trying to think of something special for Jack for Christmas, and the guy is the worst; he always just buys the things he wants, and it’s impossible to find him a good, meaningful gift. Hence, the Dallas Cowboys Snuggie Mac had given him the year before.

So in desperation, Mac had called Mama Dalton and asked for some ideas. She hadn’t been much help until she’d asked Mac if he could bake. Mac had maybe, sort of, given her the impression that he could. I mean, baking is just chemistry, right? And Mac’s good at chemistry. So she’d admitted that something that would really surprise Jack and make his holidays would be a batch of his dad’s famous Christmas cookies. The recipe was an original Jack Dalton Senior, and he’d baked them every year when Jack was a kid. But Mama had never been a baker and hadn’t had the heart to make them since Jack Senior passed.

Mac had jumped on the opportunity, and now here it is: a scan of the original recipe card, handwritten by Jack senior.

“What’s up baby?” Jack asks, glancing down from the movie.

“Nothin’,” Mac lies, turning his phone off, “just Frankie looking for some advice on a paper she wants to publish. It can wait.” He snuggles deeper under Jack’s arm and turns his attention back to the movie.

Mac’s not sure where he’s gone wrong. It’s three weeks to Christmas, and he’s doing a test run of the cookies. He wants to make sure that he’s got it down so he doesn’t disappoint Jack. He followed the directions exactly, to the letter, and yet something just isn’t right. They just… sort of… collapsed and flattened right out.

When Mama Dalton had described the cookies, she’d said they were big, soft and airy. What Mac pulls out of the oven is anything but. They’re like hard little hockey pucks.

It’s just chemistry. Why didn’t it work when the directions were followed exactly?

Mac stays up late into the night, knowing Jack won’t be back until the next afternoon; he’s gone with Bozer on a little mini-mission they didn’t need Mac for. Bozer was excited to get out and about even if it’s just to pick up a package in San Diego and escort it back up to LA, and even if it means listening to Jack’s Willie Nelson Collection the entire way.

So Mac stays up and tries another batch, with the same results. As he pulls the tray out of the oven, the clock turns over to 5AM on the dot. And Mac, desperate to understand, grabs his phone and calls up Mama. It’s 7AM where she is, and she’ll be up early to work the ranch.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Mama answers. “What’s got your risin’ and shinin’ so early darlin’?”

“Mama,” Mac lets his desperation bleed out in his tone, he’s tired and doesn’t care if he sounds foolish. “I don’t understand. I’ve tried these cookies twice. I followed the directions exactly and I just don’t know…” He glances at the tray of hard little circles. They’re not too brown, he didn’t over bake them. He picks one up and bites at it. It crumbles into his mouth and doesn’t taste particularly pleasant.

“Oh honey,” she sighs, “you’re callin’ the wrong gal. I was never a baker sweetie. That was all Jack Senior.”

“I just…” Mac sits down on one of the stools at the kitchen island. “I just wanted to do something for Jack. Something he wouldn’t expect. Something that means something.”

“Well honey,” Mama says, sympathy thick in her voice, “I understand how you feel. But you gotta know that just bein’ with you every single day means somethin’ to Junior. You don’t have to do anything special, other than be there.”

Mac sighs. “I know. But… I really wanted to surprise him with something; make this Christmas really special.”

“I know sweetheart,” Mama says softly. “Let me check with the other girls and I’ll let you know. You just hang tight and quit bakin’, ok? I’ll drop you a message today or tomorrow.”

“Thanks Mama,” Mac says softly. He wishes he could hug her; her hugs are the best. Big warm comforting things, her strong arms wrapping him up in safety like nothing bad could ever happen.

“Love you boy,” she says.

“Love you too Mama,” Mac replies. It still feels a little weird saying it. Calling her “Mama” had been hard too. But the Daltons had adopted Mac outright, even before he and Jack started dating. And Jack had been all about “I love you’s” from the beginning. Mac had needed to adjust, to adapt, so he had. And now it’s a regular occurrence: exchanging the “l word” with family. Something he hadn’t done since his grandfather passed.

The line goes dead and Mac tosses his phone onto the island in frustration.

He cleans up all traces of his experiments in plenty of time for Jack to get home, and even gets in a nice long nap to make up for a sleepless night.

“-going crazy baby,” Jack’s voice interrupts Mac’s sleep.

Mac jolts awake. “Wha?” He asks as he sits bolt upright in bed.

“Jeeze you don’t need to freak out,” Jack says, still laying down beside him, “although, you look damn cute when you do.”

Mac looks around, trying to find sanity and even ground after being jerked out of deep sleep. The blackout curtains are drawn, and Jack is warm next to him in bed.

They’d been out late on a mission, and after the long flight back over night they are taking a much needed day off to sleep.

Jack is curled into Mac, looking up at him with tired, but frisky eyes. Jack sits up, and runs his hands through Mac’s hair. “I didn’t mean to startle you Mac,” he says earnestly. “You alright? Hope it wasn’t a bad dream.” His voice is so soft and gentle.

“No,” Mac replies, “not a bad dream. I don’t even remember it actually.”

Jack runs his hands through Mac’s hair again, catching a few tangles. The pull feels a little good, wakes him up, turns him on. 

“Man, you have some of the most spectacular bedhead I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing,” Jack says.

“I bet we could… get it messier… you know, if we really tried,” Mac says with a grin.

“That sounds like a challenge to me,” Jack says, dropping a quick kiss on Mac’s cheek. “You might as well have said: ‘dare you.’” Jack grips tighter in Mac’s hair and turns his head to kiss the other cheek.

Mac’s phone vibrates on the nightstand. It stays silent for a minute, and then vibrates again.

“Yeah, that’s why I woke you up,” Jack sounds less than impressed before he flops back down into the bed and covers his head with a pillow. “It ain’t Matty,” he grumbles through the fabric and down, “she would’a called my cell too.”

Mac sighs and grabs his phone. Mama tried to call him a few times. And then after that sent a series of little texts:

_The girls don’t have much to offer_

_Rita-Mae said to keep the windows closed while you’re baking - might help_

_I’m sorry I can’t be more help_

_Wish I’d paid more attention when he was baking these things_

Mac quickly texts back “thx” before he flicks his phone to silent and lays back down next to Jack. 

After a text conversation with Mama, Mac’s not so hot and bothered anymore, and exhaustion weighs on him again.

He rolls onto his side and kisses Jack’s shoulder softly. “I’m sorry it woke you up.”

Jack emerges from the cover of his pillow, and pulls Mac close, kissing his forehead. “That ain’t nothin’ baby,” he says softly, “it was worth it to see your stupid ass hair.” He chuckles and runs his fingers through Mac’s hair again.

Mac’s already drifting off. “You can mess it up more later, ok? I promise.”

“You dare me?” Jack asks.

Mac grins wide, his eyes too heavy to open and see the smirk on Jack’s face, but he knows it’s there. “Double dog dare you.” And then he’s asleep again, Jack a warm comforting weight next to him.

Mac tries to stand as casually as possible, leaning against the wall near the door while Jack gets ready to go.

“This is some kinda bullshit,” Jack grouses again. “How come you all ain’t gotta do this stupid-ass safety recertification?”

“Because ours isn’t out of date,” Mac replies, “I did mine again a year or two ago.” He shifts against the wall.

“Why are you being weird right now?” Jack asks, hefting his bag full of snacks for the long day of power point presentations and mind-numbing training sessions.

Mac pushes off from the wall. “I’m not being weird,” he says, trying to figure out what gave him away and correct it.

“Yeah you are, you’re bein’ super weird right now dude,” Jack narrows his eyes.

Damn the man and his intimate knowledge of Mac combined with years of CIA training in interrogation!

“You’re just trying to figure out a reason not to go,” Mac grins.

“Well…” Jack starts to reason. “You actin’ weird is a pretty good reason to stay home.”

“But then you won’t be authorized to come on missions until you finish the course,” Mac says.

Jack just rolls his eyes. “Alright, gimme some sugar,” he steps closer, putting a hand on Mac’s waist. “I’m definitely gonna need it to make it through this stupid-ass day.”

Mac leans in, throws his arms around Jack’s neck and pulls him in fast, kissing him deep. Their mouths open to each other, and Mac tastes Jack’s morning cup of coffee, bitter and black on his tongue.

Mac kisses to Jack’s cheek and whispers into his ear. “What time will you be home?”

“Not soon enough,” Jack growls before nibbling at Mac’s earlobe.

Mac pushes him back playfully. “Alright, that’s enough or you’ll never get out of here.”

“Man this is bullshit!” Jack barks as he opens the door. “See you later Mac.”

“Have fun,” Mac teases as he closes the door.

Bozer pulls up twenty minutes later, rushing into Mac’s like the firing squad is after him. He’s got all of his baking supplies with him.

Six hours later, they pull yet another failed batch of cookies out of the oven. Bozer picks one up and it crumbles to powder like the Avengers at the end of Infinity War.

“Mac, dude, I’m really sorry,” Bozer sighs and collapses onto one of the stools at the kitchen counter. “But I can’t tell you what the hell is wrong with that recipe. It makes sense. It should work. It just doesn’t.”

Mac yells a frustrated noise at the oven and sits down next to Bozer. “This shouldn’t be so hard.”

“Maybe it’s time to start thinkin’ of another gift for Jack,” Bozer suggests. “You’ve baked these cookies a million times and nothin’s working.” Bozer claps him on the shoulder. “At the very least we’ve gotta throw in the towel for today. We don’t have enough time to try another batch before Jack gets home.”

Mac sighs and it feels like giving up, his shoulders sagging.

“It’s all good Mac,” Bozer says as he gets up and starts to clean the kitchen. “You know Jack loves you. Even if you didn’t get him anything, he’d still love you Mac.”

“I know,” Mac says glumly. “That’s why I want to do this. I want to show him that I…” He trails off, still not the greatest at expressing his emotions, even with Boz.

Bozer leans on the counter across from Mac and smiles. “He knows Mac.”

“I just… he deserves something nice Boz,” Mac explains, “something great. After… everything that’s happened the last year. We’ve been through a lot, and I just wanted to surprise him with something really great that he’d never see coming, you know?”

Bozer smiles. “Yeah, I get it. Man, you are head over heels,” he giggles as he returns to cleaning. “Listen. I texted myself the picture of the recipe, and I’ll keep lookin’ it over and thinkin’ about it, ok? I’ll let you know if I have any eureka moments.”

“Thanks man,” Mac smiles for the first time in a few failed batches, and gets up to help. “I really appreciate it Boz.”

The call comes in a few days later while Jack’s out for Christmas shopping and a pizza date with Riley.

Mac’s kicking back on the couch watching Christmas Vacation when Mama’s picture flashes up on his phone. He answers it with a smile, trying not to sound disheartened. “Hey Mama, how’s it going?”

“Mac, sugar! I’ve got it!”

“Got what?” Mac asks, not daring to get his hopes up.

“I was thinkin’ on this darn cookie problem of yours, and I thought: maybe if I look at that recipe card again it will spark somethin’ for me. And darned if I didn’t pull the thing out, and turn it over, and there it is right on the back! I didn’t realize he’d written anything on the back!”

Mac sits up straight on the couch, hope filling up his chest.

“I’m sending it over right now, ok?”

“Yes, please!” Mac replies. This is it, he can feel it. It’s going to work out just right. He can feel it in his bones, like a vibration, excitement thrumming through his core.

Mac’s phone dings in his ear.

“You should have it now.” Mama sounds excited too.

Mac hears the front door open. Jack and Riley’s voices float through the house. They’re having an argument, but he can hear the amusement in their voices.

“Mac, where you at?” Jack calls out. From the sounds of it they drop a significant number of bags near the front door.

“Living room!” Mac calls back.

“Ok, well stay the hell outta here for a minute,” Jack replies, “I got some gifts to sort out and I don’t want you peekin’.”

“Is that Jacky boy?” Mama whispers as though he’ll somehow be able to hear her rooms away.

“Yeah, I should go,” Mac says. “Thanks Mama.”

“Did you say Mama?” Jack calls. “Say hi for me! Love you Mama! I’ll call you later!”

“Jack says he’ll call you later and he loves you,” Mac relays the message.

“You give him a kiss for me Mac, ok sugar?” She answers. “And a nice G-rated kiss, you hear? On the cheek!”

“Mama,” Mac adds a disgusted noise as though he were a teenager. “One peck on the cheek, just for you.”

“Good luck,” she whispers again, as though Jack has super hearing.

“Thanks,” Mac whispers in return, because maybe Jack does have super hearing.

The next week is torture.

Mac looks over the new instructions when Jack’s showering, or still asleep. They’re an interesting mix of tricks, most of which Bozer had tried when they’d baked together. But he’d never tried them all on the same batch, they just hadn’t had the time for that much experimentation. 

Jack Sr’s looping scrawl tells Mac:

_Butter at room temp._

_Use Quick Oats, not Cooking Oats - VERY IMPORTANT_

_Add sugar to wet before flour_

_Add flour slow - 1/2 cup at a time_

_Freeze one hr. before forming_

The pen colours vary, and the writing on each line is different, as though each step was added over time; after experimentation. Mac suddenly feels very connected to Jack Senior, and thinks that maybe they would have found common ground on more than a few things.

Mac’s head feels light. It is chemistry, he just didn’t have the knowledge or time to experiment with the variables. It’s going to work.

It’s going to work.

But it’s torture, because Jack’s not scheduled to be anywhere but laying in Mac’s arms on the couch, or in their bed, or on the deck. It’s the holidays and they want to be close, be together. Their shopping is all done, and there’s no other excuse to get Jack out of the house without raising suspicion.

So Mac bides his time and waits, hoping for a Christmas miracle.

Bozer texts to ask for an update on “Cookie Gate,” as he’s started calling it, and Mac sends him the photo of the back of the recipe card.

Bozer’s reply is all exclamation marks, emojis, and enthusiasm; telling Mac that it should be easy now, that he can do it, and if he needs, Bozer will help.

Mac’s reply is a quick “thx” followed up by:

_Just need the eagle to leave the nest now_

It’s only days until Christmas, and they’re planning to decorate the house. Mac’s pulled out all the boxes of decorations, and is just about to set the tree up when a call comes in from Matty.

“What’s up boss lady?”Jack answers. He listens intently for a few minutes. “But what about - ok, ok. And then? When’s wheels up?” He taps the red circle on his phone and looks sadly to Mac. “Tree’s gonna have to wait.”

“When do we need to be there?” Mac asks.

“You don’t need to be nowhere hoss,” Jack answers, “this is a Jack and Desi special.”

Mac frowns for a minute. He hates the idea of Jack going on missions without him. It happens once in a while, and he doesn’t like the idea of not having Jack’s back. But Desi is the best possible replacement.

“It’s a solid ops job,” Jack explains. “Only room for two, and Matty wants both of those two armed… with guns, not just smarts.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Mac says, playing off his worry. “How soon?”

“Like, yesterday dude,” Jack gives Mac a quick kiss before he heads to the bedroom. He comes back with his go bag. “I gotta head out right now. Scheduled to be back Christmas Eve. We can decorate when I get back, ok?”

Mac nods. “You bet. Wouldn’t dream of doing it without you.”

Mac follows Jack to the door and they share a very loud silence full of worried looks and longing.

Mac takes Jack’s hands in his own and steps close, putting their foreheads together. It’s a little tradition they started when they first got together and were being more intimate. “Be safe,” Mac says.

“I promise.”

It’s one of the few things they’ve never made light of, never make jokes about. The little back and forth, request and promise, is sacred.

Jack kisses Mac softly, and before Mac opens his eyes the door’s closing behind Jack.

He’ll be fine, he’s got Desi. And now Mac has the cookies to focus on while Jack’s away.

It isn’t an hour after the door closed, when it opens again and Bozer and Riley burst in.

Mac’s partway into his first batch, and accidentally pulls the electric beaters out of the bowl when he turns to say hello.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Bozer laughs as flour puffs around the kitchen. “I see we arrived just in time.”

“What are you doing here?” Mac asks, taking his finger off the trigger and returning the beaters to the bowl.

“Well, I maybe sorta told Matty about your situation with,” here Bozer goes for a whisper: “‘Cookie Gate,’” and then returns his voice to normal. “And she said she could get Jack outta your hair for a day or so.”

“You what?” Mac asks.

“Yeah, she sent him to France or something on some bogus mission,” Bozer replies.

“He’ll never know the difference,” Riley adds. “And she sent Desi with him for company.”

“You guys actually… just… convinced Matty to use the Phoenix’s private jet to send Jack halfway around the world so I could bake him cookies?”

“Yeah,” Riley says with a shrug as though it’s no big deal.

“We’ve used Phoenix resources for way shadier stuff than this,” Bozer shakes his head as he sits down at the kitchen bar. “So, where you at?”

“Yeah, Bozer just filled me in on ‘Cookie Gate,’” Riley raises an eyebrow, leaning on the counter as though serious intrigue is happening. “How’s it coming along?”

“Well, it’s not yet,” Mac sighs. He’s really not a baker and having an audience is only going to make him more nervous. But Bozer will be helpful to have around. “I’m just mixing the first batch.” He picks up the mixer again. “So, here goes nothing.”

Jack drives down Mac’s street - his street now too-, hand easy and loose on the wheel of the GTO. He’s whistling along to the Christmas music coming from the radio, and tapping his fingers in time. 

The op had been a bust. Him and Desi had flown all the way to France for no reason at all, touched down for two hours to refuel and check the plane, and headed right on back. All in all it had been a pretty relaxing 24 hours. Jack never had issues sleeping on the fancy little jet, and when he wasn’t sleeping he’d been able to chat and hang out with Desi, which was always a good time.

And in addition to all of that, while they were on the ground in France, he’d picked up some fancy ass (and pretty expensive) champagne to surprise Mac with for New Years.

If he’s honest, he would rather have been home with Mac. But given the choice of a real op, or a trip around the world for no reason, he’ll take the trip for no reason. These days it’s become more important to him to come home alive to Mac, than to seek thrills. Mac provides enough jolts of adrenaline on his own.

“Are you sure this is ok?” Desi asks from the passenger seat.

“A’course girl,” Jack replies. “Can’t have you spending Christmas Eve alone.”

“But you just got back, won’t you and Mac…” She trails off.

“Lotsa time for that any other day of the week,” Jack says with a wink.

Desi laughs. “I bet.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jack asks, not sure why he’s offended.

“You guys can barely keep your hands off each other, like, all the time,” she says. “You should see the faces Riley makes when you aren’t looking. The gagging one is the most common, and my personal favourite.”

“Come on now, we're not that bad,” Jack waves away her accusations.

“Yeah you are,” she answers earnestly, “but it’s good. It’s… cute even. And you know what Jack? You deserve some cute shit in your life. Been a long time coming.”

“Thanks Des,” Jack feels himself getting emotional and coughs to clear his throat.

Desi nods approvingly and looks back out the window as Jack pulls up into the steep driveway. Poor girl’s got no family around for the holidays. And holidays can be hard when everyone else has someone but you. So Jack’s more than happy to make her part of his family. He knows Mac won’t mind.

The house is glowing and warm, everything Jack could wish for on Christmas Eve. The sun is just going down, and it looks so inviting that he turns off the car and sits and looks at it for a minute. This is his. He’s allowed to have it. Not just in his dreams, but every single day. He gets to wake up with the person he loves and live the most beautiful life.

“You ok old man?” Desi asks.

“Old man,” he scoffs and lands a soft punch on her shoulder.

“Hey! I know it’s Christmas, but I will hurt you if you keep on with that shit!” She laughs, slides across the bench seat and puts an arm loosely around his neck.

“Alright, alright! I give!” Jack calls out, words busted up with laughter.

“Good, I thought so,” she says, sliding out of the passenger door.

Jack lets them into the house and drops his unused go bag by the front door, carefully setting the bottle of champagne on the table next to his keys.

He leads Desi into the kitchen where he finds Bozer, Riley, Matty and Mac all hanging out in the kitchen laughing and drinking from mugs.

The entire house is decorated; lights everywhere, the tree is up and decorated with all of Mac’s little paperclip ornaments. It’s a perfect way to come home on Christmas Eve.

“Merry Christmas!” Bozer yells when he sees them. He jumps from his stool and gives Jack a big hug.

“Hey guys,” Jack greets them, “Merry Christmas.” He hugs Riley quickly, and then Matty.

Mac’s hanging in the back, his usual quiet self while the team is around. Despite Desi’s accusations they’ve tried to be careful around the team, and not be too lovey dovey. Apparently they’ve failed miserably.

As Desi greets the team and distracts them for a moment, Jack steps close to Mac. “Merry Christmas handsome,” he says softly, planting a little kiss on Mac’s mouth.

Mac has the biggest grin on his face that Jack has ever seen. “Merry Christmas,” he replies against Jack’s lips. “I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you to decorate. You were running a little late so I put Riley and Boz to work.”

“It’s ok,” Jack says quietly, just for the two of them, “it’s perfect. I love it. No harm no foul.”

Mac leans in as Jack tries to pull away. Jack succumbs and takes one more quick little kiss before turning back to the rest of the group. “What’s the plan everybody?”

“Well, there’s this nice big fancy plate of cookies out here,” Riley says, motioning toward the big plate in the middle of the island. There’s something fishy about it. She’s grinning too, her big pearly whites on display.

Jack narrows his eyes. “Guys,” he sighs, “Christmas Eve is no night for pranks.”

“Whatever, I’m having one,” Desi says. She reaches over to the big plate where the pristine white cookies are perfectly layered in a little pyramid. She plops one into her mouth, swallows and sticks out her tongue for Jack to see. “See? No poison. I think you’re good.”

Jack shakes his head and looks at Mac, who’s still grinning like he’s won the lottery.

“Try one,” he suggests.

The cookies look generic, like maybe a shortbread or something. “You bakin’ now Bozer?” Jack asks as he picks one up. He gives it a little sniff before he shoves the whole thing right in his mouth.

“Not me,” Bozer holds up his hands as though in surrender.

And then the cookie dissolves on Jack’s tongue and floods his mouth with childhood memories.

Pop baking in the kitchen just a few days before Christmas. The way the whole house would smell like vanilla and butter.

Singing Christmas carols with Mama while they decorated the tree.

Pop reading The Night Before Christmas on Christmas Eve.

Stealing cookies from the sideboard before dinner, and getting his hand slapped more than once by Mama for “ruining his dinner.” It was absurd; one little cookie wasn’t gonna ruin the appetite of Jack Dalton, no matter his age.

Jack’s heart feels like it’s stuttering in his chest. Pop’s cookies. And they are perfect. Taste just like Pop had baked them himself. Jack's been thrown back in time and he feels like a kid again. Somehow it’s like Pop could just walk into the room and give him a big ole hug and pat on the back.

Jack swallows, and the cookie is sticky in a throat that’s choked with emotion.

Mac looks concerned for a second and hands Jack a mug full of eggnog. “Oh, here,” he says, “I hope… they’re not too dry are they?”

Jack takes a thick sip and swallows down the last of the cookie, nostalgia fading a bit as the sweet eggnog washes away the flavour. “Not dry at all, they’re just perfect,” he says. “Just…” His eyes get hot and he looks to the ceiling the way he does when he’s trying not to cry. “Just like…”

“I think I saw some presents under that tree for all of you,” Matty interrupts. “Let’s go check it out.” She draws the rest of the team away into the living room, and Jack’s grateful. Not that he doesn’t want them around, but he’s having a moment and he’d rather have it with Mac and no one else.

He takes a deep breath, torn between talking to Mac and shoving the entire plate full of cookies into his face. His dad’s cookies are something really something special, and it’s been years since he’s had them. Pop had only ever baked them at Christmas.

“Jack, are you ok?” Mac asks, his face falling, brows wrinkling.

Jack reaches up and smoothes the lines away, pressing at them firmly with his thumb. Jack does it all the time when Mac’s worried, and Mac calms immediately at the familiar motion that means: it’s all good hoss. 

He wants to tug Mac close and kiss him for all he’s worth, like he’s going off to war, or just come back from it. But with the team watching…

“Can I steal you for a minute?” Jack asks. He doesn’t wait for an answer, but hops up the steps to the deck. There are a few windows that look onto the deck from the living room, but he knows the team will give them their privacy.

“Jack, seriously, I’m sorry if I overstepped when I-”

Jack grabs Mac and tugs him into a tight hug, settling his face into the perfect crook of Mac’s neck. He lets himself cry a little. Sadness for his lost father, the sharp sting of childhood long gone, the sweet and bitter taste of nostalgia. “God Mac,” he chokes out. “You are just-” He lets a soft little sob slip out. “What in the hell did I ever do to deserve you?”

Mac pushes Jack back and takes his face in hand. And those big blue eyes look him over, like he’s trying to find a wound he can patch up. He wipes tears away with his thumbs. “I love you Jack. I wanted to do something special… for you. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s good,” Jack laughs and a few more tears sneak free. He lets his arms snake around Mac’s middle. “It’s perfect. You just… you know me. Sometimes I just…” He laughs again unable to ever talk about the feelings that pool on his surface. He sets his forehead to Mac’s. “How in the hell did you get those cookies?” He asks. “Don’t tell me that’s why you’ve been talkin’ to Mama so much lately.” He pulls back to take in Mac’s guilty, yet pleased expression.

“Well…” Mac says. “Maybe.”

“So, what? Did you give the recipe to some local bakery or somethin’?” Jack asks, hurt by the idea that his family recipe would be floating out in the world somewhere.

Mac shakes his head. “No, I baked them myself.”

Jack laughs. “Seriously dude.”

“Seriously,” Mac replies, laughter shaking his body in Jack’s arms. “It took me a few weeks to get them right but-”

“Is that why your shirt was covered in flour when I was doin’ the laundry last week?” Jack asks.

Mac nods.

“I thought it was just some experiment.”

“Well, it kinda was,” Mac says, “turns out baking’s a lot like chemistry-”

“Nu uh,” Jack shakes his head. “Pop taught me that. Bakin’ aint’ chemistry or science, it’s pure witchcraft hoss. You shoulda seen the things Pop could do with a bag of flour. Boggles the mind.”

“You guys about done with the Hallmark Christmas movie out here?” Riley’s voice carries onto the deck.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jack says, but this time he doesn’t let Mac go when everyone comes out to join them.

Mac takes a moment to wipe a few more tears from Jack’s cheeks before they go to sit by the fire. They stay close. Always touching. And Jack doesn’t care what the others think, even catches one of Riley's gagging faces, and it is pretty cute. 

They’re home, in their own house, and it’s Christmas damn Eve and he’ll kiss and hug his boyfriend if he damn well wants to.

Bozer brings out the plate of cookies, and they pass them around the fire. Jack tells stories about Pop’s famous baking, and compliments Mac so many times on his skill that Mac is the colour of a lobster by the end of the night.

Later, when they’re alone, they crawl into bed together and hold each other tight. Holding turns to kissing and touching and more, and it’s so full of love that Jack hurts at the core and tears spring up again. He asks Mac over and over what he’s done to deserve him, and when they’re both spent and Mac lays down next to him, he finally answers through panted breaths: “Just be you, Jack, that’s all you had to do,” he says, kissing Jack’s temple. “You’re everything.”


End file.
